Unless Oprah is going to invite me to be an audience member on her Favorite Things spectacular, then I don't really have much use for the items on her annual list. (Dear Oprah: if your next Favorite Things episode is scheduled to include a studio filled with teachers, or, perhaps, a gaggle of working mothers who wish they had more time to blog, I retract that first statement entirely. Let the record show that I still really want to attend, and I can personally guarantee you the best "woman in fetal position, hyperventilating with joy" camera shot in all of Favorite Things history.)
This year, since I'm feeling especially grateful that the world didn't end, I have decided to compile my own Favorite Things list. Since my budget for my Favorite Things is slightly less than Oprah's, and because I don't have 10 assistants, a producer, and an editor, the items on my list will, instead, meet these rigorous demands:
1. They cannot cost money.
This year, since I'm feeling especially grateful that the world didn't end, I have decided to compile my own Favorite Things list. Since my budget for my Favorite Things is slightly less than Oprah's, and because I don't have 10 assistants, a producer, and an editor, the items on my list will, instead, meet these rigorous demands:
1. They cannot cost money.
2. There can only be four.
3. They have to make me so happy and filled with comfort (and joy) that I feel like I could just lie down right where I'm at and take an "all is right with the world" nap, which is the sort of sleep that one sinks into when all their bills are paid, their chores are done, and their loved ones are healthy, happy and otherwise occupied. When all it right with the world, a cozy nap is among the best and most satisfying of all the human experiences (according to me).
So, without further ado, I present to you My Four Favorite Things of 2012...
4. Let's start with something that only a select few will be able to fully appreciate: Meat in a jar. Canning meat has been a tradition in my family for many generations. I've watched the process; I've ingested the meat in its various, delicious forms (including as the integral ingredient in beef and noodles served over homemade mashed potatoes, a meal that I imagine will someday be included on a list entitled Foods That Have Made Me Who I Am Today). I speak of canned beef today, however, because this year I was the lucky recipient of the two free jars that were the most sought after gift in my family's White Elephant gift exchange. It was the luck of the draw, coupled with the graciousness of family members who could (and probably should) have stolen it from me as is dictated in section 3, article 2 of The Rules of White Elephant. But, like two star-crossed lovers, the meat's destiny and mine somehow remained intertwined. And you are just going to have to trust me when I tell you how delicious it is...because I'm not sharing it.
3. Because this is my child's first year of preschool, I have only just been introduced to the joy a mother feels when her child brings home a homemade Christmas ornament. Oh.My.God. I placed them in the most prominent places on the tree, found myself staring at them when no one was looking, and have taken more protective measures in the wrapping and packing away of each of them than any piece of glitter-laden construction paper probably deserves. So, suck it, antique glass ornaments. I'm using all the extra bubble wrap for Glitter Santa and his tongue depressor reindeer.
2. At 7:00 a.m. the morning after this year's first snowfall, as I was trying to get my son out the door and to the babysitter's house on time, my husband promised that he would take Owen sledding that day... AFTER WORK on a WEEKDAY. In an effort to ease my dreadful anticipation of his bundle up, freeze, and sled promise, I spent the day planning ways to kill Neil. On my way home from work that day, I called him (probably to voice my displeasure), and when he answered his voice sounded so happy that it made me want to throttle him. "We're already sledding," he said. "We're having fun, so you'll probably beat us home." This is probably the part where I was supposed to feel guilty for the murderous thoughts, but all I could feel was joy, gratitude and love. In making Owen the happiest kid in the world, Neil had unknowingly made me the happiest mom. He left work early to sled. He bought the new boots, did the bundle up, and was freezing his happy ass off in the name of father/son fun, and that, my friends, is priceless.
1. Showcasing his father's passionate dedication to the task at hand and his stellar taste in music, and featuring some sweet, sweet moves that he surely got from him mom, Owen did this:
In 2012 all was right with the world. Now let's all go take a nap.
